A Knife to Slice
by Wolfa Moon
Summary: Warning! Extreme turmoil. Ezra is alone in a world he can no longer live in.
1. Knife to Slice

A Knife to Slice

BY: Wolfa Moon

SUMMARY: Warning! Extreme turmoil. Ezra is alone in a world he can no longer live in.

Disclaimer: I do not own. I do not support suicide or self-harm. This is a work of fiction. Contents taking out of pretext are not my problem. Please enjoy and review.

A KNIFE TO SLICE

Ezra sat smoothly down onto the grass. It seemed he could melt into this spot. And by god he wanted to. The events of recent just made him want to fade away more. People only saw the surface. Never seeing the small child wanting to be accepted. No, they only saw the gambler. The con artist. Sighing he looked up to the heavens for answers. Never receiving one before so why now. So he bent his head to stare at the ground. The only place he would ever truly end up. Just as he is alone. Sure there are six men who have various opinions of him. And a town that talks behind his back.

A town whom turned their back on him. His facade finally breaking. He could handle only so much. But with no back up. What's the point?

Taking the only gift he ever received from the six. Vin had given him a knife. Since he never had one. His only true friend in the group. Thank god one good thing came out of this. He lifted the knife to his wrist. Let the blade shine light into his eyes. Maybe if he doesn't see it, he can do it.

Looking down the light moves from his eyes to see the blade had sliced through his shirt. His beautiful white shirt. A present he bought himself. The only one who ever gave him anything. Pressing down a little further. He felt the sharpness then the clarity. Such clarity. Moving the pressure away the fog of emotions came back. The noise growing in his ears. The names they called. The look, that certain tilt of the head. Wherever he goes, north, south, east, and west. It is universal. One Ezra Standish is not welcomed in this world.

Returning the blade to his skin he felt the pressure. Pain equal to clarity. He can see. The silence it brought. Finally peace.

Looking down the blood flowed. Streaming down his arm. Raining from his fingertips. No one to help him stop the flow. No one to worry about his life seeping out of his wounds. The earth mixed with his blood. From dust we come and dust we shall return.

Making a third strike across his arm. He smiles. For the first time in a long time he smiled. It felt alien upon his face. Then he laughed. A sound in the silence. So long forgotten he is able to actually make such a sound. It felt good in a sad way. Closing his eyes he feels the warmth of the sun. The river pouring out of him. A life unneeded. A life no one took interest in. Why should they?

He fell back onto the earth. Sinking in. This is a nice place. Visiting this place on many of his wasteless patrols. His space of serenity. Now his final resting place. Best place than no space. This is his. A man with nowhere to claim as his. Just to fade away. And he did. The sun soaking his skin. The breeze taking his breathes. And silence.

AKS

One would think that life simply ends when one wishes it to fade. Doing drastic measure in order for it to happen. Three deep slices of skin. Bleeding into the earth is not enough.

Sun gone from the sky. Dark moonlight lighting the ground. Life still in him. Sitting up he takes in the nighted world. Nothing much changes. Even him. He is still here. And now to head back and face the music. Music that grew louder with each step he took.

No surprise that no one came to search for him. The wave of dizziness not a bother. A welcomed friend. Maybe his time had come. Time to see what other part of the world will give him looks. Talk on the wind behind his back. Push him down further than he already is.

Climbing the small hill he pats his only won on a game of chance, his steed, his only ally. Snorting a welcome back.

"Sorry my friend. We will head back." Getting on he let Bucephalus pick his path toward town. A path that had become his river of Styx. The place holding no warmth. They say hell is fire and brimstone. No, hell is cold. It is a lake covered with thick ice that you can't break though. And you are captured under the surface. Ice water only to fill your lungs with each breath. Until your lungs fill up with the cold ice water. And then you sink. Sink deep to the frozen bottom. You won't feel yourself hit the bottom. For you would have stopped feeling anything half way down.

Town silent, Ezra stabled his horse. Then moved to his abode. The doors opening onto the sound of laughter, clanging of glasses, the air of smoke making life known to him. Life is such a waste. He spied his comrades at their normal table. Not a glance his way. Why did he bother? Heading up the stairs he enters his room. Not really his room. A room to be rented over and over again once vacated. And it shall be vacant soon. Grabbing his bag he began to fill it with his treasured possessions. Great kings of the past believed to be buried with there earnings. Well here goes the same for him. Ezra may not be the king. But he is the ace in the whole. Buried alive with the great king. Hiding in the corner with his own mementos to be cherished past his time. Into the next life.

Who cares about his first gift from his father? Now only a scrap of fur remains of the stuffed lion.

Who will touch parchment so old that the corners are no longer a perfect angles? A deck of cards given to a boy told to 'entertain yourself' and 'stay out of the way'. Always stay out of the way unless you're useful.

Who cares about the ribbon? A long piece of red velvet. Worn in places. A symbol of his one true love. Ezra plays with the ring on his finger. He remembered her. His love.

What will people make of the drawling? Mere scribbles on a bible pages. Only two colors. Yet it filled the good book. A welcome home gift for daddy. Yet daddy never got to receive it from his daughter. Having to find it when he scavenged through his house home after coming back form battle.

Would they remember her smile? Would they remember her laughter? He would as he closes his eyes. Remembering a time that he twirled her in the air. Making her fly like an angel.

Ezra looked at his treasure. Sure there is money. But that is all it is. Just money. Scraps of paper with legal ink marking it as worth. The scribble on the bible page worth more than any pot he won.

Time to move on.

Sleep first though.

AKS.

Banging on his door arose him. Moving a hand he felt the twang of soreness in the limb. Who cares? The dampness it leaves as he rubs his eyes to wake.

"Ezra we know you're in there." The voice called from the door. Of course where else would he be. Like they care. "Ezra?" the voice became low. A voice on the wind. A plea to fade in the crowd. "Come on Ez. We're havin a meeting and Chris says you gotta be there." Why not?"

"I will be there shortly." Why should he go at all? They don't care. Their behavior toward him making him a leper. Always on the outside. They don't care.

His arm soaked in blood. The wounds still oozing life. The only life he has.

Wrapping his arm in a section of the ruined shirt he places another on over. Appearances. Soon there would only be one final. One set of cloths for the rest of his days.

Coming down the stairs he sees the group of vigilantes. Not one turning to look at him. He could shot them all. Take some of them with him on his trip. Ezra is better than that. He would only take himself out of the equation. They deserve whatever comes to them.

"About time you got here." Chris bellowed. Ezra just moves to a spot to see what the new fuse is about. Words are pointless on Neanderthals. Even those a step above. Remaining silent he let their words flow on around him, past him, through even. Nothing really to listen too. Shipment. Money. Guard. Protect. You here. Them there. Words to flow unneeded unprocessed.

"You listening to me?" An angry Chris grabbed Ezra. Making the world flare in clarity. Without touch he is smoke to hover on the air. But touch he is stone. Bound to earth. Ezra gulped. Mouth so dry.

"Always Mr. Larabee." Chris looked deep into the greens. Not seeing anything. Yet his gut telling him to worry.

"Good." Releasing his hold, Ezra is smoke again. "You will take your post and you better do it now."

"No." finally he has their attention. "I shall not be doing as you say." A grumble roared to life. But he can ignore it. "I am going to depart. Away from here."

"What? Why?" sprung from some.

"Coward. No good gambler." Sang from other.

"And on those words ado." Ezra moved off. Yet yelped when a fierce grip turned him toward the eyes of the six.

"What the hell do you mean you leavin?"

"What part did you not understand? I am done with this place. And I am gone," Might as well tell them what he feels. Not like they care anyway. What is it; confession is good for the soul.

"That not good enough." Fine. Stepping back.

"I am through. Done being your black mark to be check on whenever you want to add another. I am not you personnel debaturey of when you want to make yourself feel better about yourself. Calling me names. Making comments. Fighting me in public eye so I am the least to be trusted. Eyes that I am suppose to protect. Well who protects me?" He paused. Silence befell the room. But this is not going to stop him. "I am sick and tired of your comments and abuse. Especially you lot. You say we work together. No there is no magnificent seven. There are six lawmen and the lone gambler. That is all I am to you, a con artist. You don't care. Except for you Vin. I hold you in higher regard then them but you still did not fight or help me. This unit is no such thing." Chris boiled at the words. Buck open mouthed. Josiah looking ashamed of no action. JD looking at there reactions. Nathan glared daggers. Vin trying to wrap his head around the gamblers words. "It would have been better to have died with them but whatever power made me live. Live this hell. For that is what this place has become. There is no warmth here for me. I lost that in the fire." He spoke too much. Gulping it back. "I am finished with your gang Mr. Larabee. Get yourself another cheat." Ezra turned and stormed off to his room. Leaving a pondering group of men behind.

AKS

"What just happen there?" Buck spoke.

"It seems that brother Standish has not been feeling the commoderity that we feel toward one another." Josiah said sitting down.

"Do you blame him?" JD spoke his mind. The voice of youth. "You guys speak nasty of him to his face and not just in private but in public. Rumors start and that he is what we made him."

"I don't blame him for wanting to leave. I just wish I saw it sooner. Especially since he took to hurting himself." Vin spoke. He had seen the red on the shirt cuff. Nathan looked up at Vin's words.

"I better get my stuff."

"What makes you think he wants your help?" Nathan stopped at Vin's words. Every one of them knew that Vin is the closest of them to Ezra except maybe JD. "We all have been placing all our sorrows on him. I guess with recent arguments it finally broke the horses back."

"Every man has a breaking point." Buck added his voice to the pot.

"So what are we going to do?" JD looked to his mentors. Chris sighed heavily. He is the leader of the pack. The others following by example except his beta, Vin. True Ezra remained on the outside of their group. A lone wolf amongst the pack. Didn't any one of them make him feel welcome? No they didn't. And he is the most to blame.

"We'll fix it." They had too. Ezra is a part of them. Even through fog of whatever bothers them blocks their eyes from seeing what they are truly doing. They had to make amends. They needed their pack mate. Even if they didn't realize it till now.

AKS

Ezra breathed in the air of his serenity. His treasures under his head. Cushioning them from the earth moist coolness. He had spoken his piece. There isn't any other place to go. He is tired. Sure Maude would have words. But they would pass into the river of fake tears she always had flowing. Time to end this torture. Looking to the sky. Maybe soon he would be with his loves.

Dragging the knife from his inner elbow down to his wrist. One down. Moving clumsily with the other he makes another mark. But he can't finish. This will have to do. Bloods flows. Tears flow. Not in pain. But in the clearness of what he is doing. He is releasing himself from this mortal coil of pain and turmoil. No longer able to deal with this maelstrom. This will end it. He will finally have peace.

CHAPTER 1

A/N: the next chapter will be shorts. But all together a good story. I felt funky when I wrote this. Now I'm better so I don't know what will happen.

REVIEWS REQUIRED.


	2. Initial Cut

The Initial Cut

CHAPTER 2

BY: Wolfa Moon

Summary: Ezra is alone in a world he can no longer live in.

Disclaimer: No Own. Don't condone this behavior of what Ezra is doing. If you feel this depressed seek help. Please enjoy. REVIEWS REQUIRED. Appreciated.

THE INITIAL CUT

Chris looked around. His mind getting the better of him. Going to the dark corners. Corners that needed light. Just the places he hides him. Hid the gambler. And now where is the light to find him. His inner storm blocking the view. Looking to the sky asking it to shed light.

Then there he is. Laying in the rays soaking it in. But Ezra remained unmoving. Why does he do this? Why does this cheat, this man, makes him so angry. Make him fight with both halves of his conscious. Never quite full but making him full enough.

Moving closer he saw it. The red and green. Colors for a holiday not the scene before him. This is wrong and he had help contribute to it.

"Ezra, EZRA!" his voice echoing off the valleys. Jumping down he could only stare stunned. Taking in the pale complexion. Blue tinted lips. A form unmoving as a mountain. Knees buckling he fell before the stillness. Sitting in awe at what lay before him. "What the hell Ezra?" lifting up a leaking limb. Gripping tight to stop the flow. Yet it still sluggishly flowed between his gaps. "Why?" Why am I an idiot? How could I have been so blind? "Come on." Chris moves his arms under the dead weight. His thoughts going to the dark. Always and vocal. Getting on his horse with the weight held close to his chest. "I'm not letting you go damn it." And the sorrow in those words. The emotion collapsing in on him. Blindness no longer existent.

The weight against his chest knowledge of who is here with him. The irregular beat under his hand. The existence of life. Blood soaking his shirt and legs. The reality striking like lightening. He had contributed to this situation. Keeping silent through the storm. Hunkering down to watch from the window. But he had left clothes up on the line. Horses unstabled. Now the storm added to the noise to the things he let hang out in the wind. Chris cringed.

His storm has hit. And this is the outcome.


	3. Carving a Whole

Carving a Whole

CHAPTER 3

BY: Wolfa Moon

Summary: Ezra is alone in a world he can no longer live in.

Disclaimer: No Own. Don't condone this behavior of what Ezra is doing. If you feel this depressed seek help. Please enjoy. REVIEWS REQUIRED. Appreciated.

CARVING A WHOLE

The group watched their leader bring in their wayward sheep. The sheep cradled in their leader's arm. The pack moving in on them. Then they saw. The life bleeding out of the sheep.

"Oh god!" Josiah moved in to help alleviate the burden from the alpha. How far they have fallen. Letting one go unnoticed till to late.

"Nathan, he needs attention." He needed more than that. Their group effort had finally broke into a billion pieces. Here they lay cradled in group hands. Looking at the broken body. One they had all helped add to the burden.

Now the burden lay still in one of Nathan's cots. Sleeves pushed aside to examine the cuts. Ezra took no care with his garments this time. Slicing right through the imported white shirt down to the skin into the veins, skimming slightly against the bone. Nathan shaking his head at the self inflicted wound. Then taking in the other arm and the other slices. All made by the owner.

Shacking his head at the body before him. At what they had done. True Ezra had inflicted but only after he had nothing else. Nobody in his corner to help. Ezra needed help. And none came.

Nathan worked on the wounds but he did only all what he could do. The others could only watch. Make promises to no one. To a man who it might be too late.

Now they worry. Now they ask the questions. Now when the man can't answer them or defend himself.

Always on the defense. Backed against a wall surrounded by a pack. A pack that needed their seventh. But they didn't realize till now. And now may be too late.

Too late for a lot of things.


	4. Stitch A Piece

Stitch a Piece

CH: 4

BY: Wolfa Moon

_**See previous for summary and disclaimer. **_

_**Reminder, if you like review please. If depressed, seek help.**_

To wake from a dream or a nightmare can seem to be so many things. Yet always waking to a fog. He remembered that and then the floating. Pulling this and that way. Now being pulled in a direction he really didn't want to. Light poured down upon him. Noise making itself known. The world making itself known. Something he thought he had left behind. He had failed. how? Why?

Needing to understand. Trying to rise but hands came upon him ushering him down.

"Easy Ezra." Ezra groaned. This is not what is suppose to be happening. He was suppose to be free from this mortal coil. Free from their barbs and stones thrown at him. "Ezra." Ignoring the call he tried to roll away. "Easy Ezra."

"G'" get away, he wants to yell at them. They care now. Now of all times. Cowards. If they accuse him again of such he tells himself laudanum and a gun. Sounds good. Closing the world out with sight that still left sound and touch. And touch they did. Unwanted touch.

"Ezra please." Their leader spoke. Not his leader. Not a man he wants to look for orders from. He had, had enough of that during the war. He tried. Good lord did he try. But in the end he failed. Toppling down onto their pristine derriere. Or so they thought. They are just as dirty as every other mans.

"Ezra." Ezra moves his arms. Then he can't. People had moved in to hold him down. He just wants to cover his ears block them out. They tell him to remain calm, be easy, it's all right. It is far from alright.

"Ge…" his mouth so dry. Then there is water. That he wanted. But he also wants to get away. He begins to struggle. Spitting the water out of his mouth. Growling at the intrusions upon his body.

"Easy." It was time.

"Get off of me!" he finally yells. Everyone in the room step back as if slapped. As they should. Ezra fumbles up to glare at all of them. His arms came into view. Wrapped bandaged, gleaming white as snow. Then movement caught his attention. They began to converge on him. Moving quickly he began to unravel his bindings. They step quicker. But when he yells, "Stop." They halt in their tracks as deer do. He looks down at the stitching. Red outlines the suture. From elbow to wrist. They had saved him. "Why?"

The group looking from one another. Ezra had wanted to know why did they save him. Why do they care? That is the question of moment.

"Ezra," Chris spoke. Stepping closer. Keeping his eyes glued on the gambler. Seeing him so pale now full of life. What life did he have now? The face remained the same. Lost. "Ezra," moving closer to the bed. Ezra moved away from him. Edging closer to the edge. The edge of the cliff ready to jump off. Not even have to think. Just leaping. Who knew where his body would end up? Chris grabbed him before he could leap. "Ezra listen to me." Grabbing the man around the waist and pulling him toward him. The shaking figure in his arms concerning him. What had he done? "Please Ezra, please." He had no right to plea with the stricken man. But he had to do something. Causing so much pain. Words upon words. Tumbling down back into their faces. All of their faces.

Word on the street now that the gambler had pissed off the wrong people and was hurt for his supposed actions. Steeling innocent people's money, Nathan's words. A sinner, Josiah's. A sneaky snake, Vin. I don't know him that well, JD's. He's a gambler what do you expect, Buck's. A pathetic excuse for a human being. Doesn't deserve to live. Chris and his drunken rants. Longer than any of the other but heard by all in his drunken stupor. Yet no one called him on being a drunk. He is the leader. Do no wrong. And then there is their black sheep. The one that deserved to be held in regard. Protecting the innocent. Teaching people lessons of life. Chris held Ezra tighter to him. Ezra collapsing inside himself. Sure he tried to jump in reality. Yet had been halted. No one said anything about the mind. The form in Chris' arms going still. No fight left.

No place to go. He is surrounded by the men he tried to get away from. Away from their accusations. Their voice against him. He tried so hard just to have them pull him back for more torture. If he couldn't be allowed to hurt the physical. The mental already so badly damaged. No the reverse in feelings. He broke. Going to that one safe refuge he had left. The seclusion so far in the back of his mind. A place he hasn't been since youth for it no longer existed. A secluded cabin in the southern hills outside Georgia. A residence on his grand pappy's estate. His father's side. His father's place of seclusion now his. There he would be safe.

Chris jerked when the form went still in his grasp. Turning the gambler's face to look him in the eye. When he gazed upon those once so bright playful eyes. They are dull. The spark had gone out. They had done this. They had broken this great man. How could they fix this? Looking to the others they could only show shock, saddens, grief, sorrow, regret, remorse. They had done this. Gently laying Ezra back down on the cot. This is Ezra not just some gambler. He is a part of the seven protecting this town. Yet they had destroyed him for calling him the evils of gambler, con artist, thief, a no good bastard. Eyes watched the ceiling, no focus. Chris sighed heavily. Him being the first to throw many of stones. All hitting their target. Running his dirty hands along the southerners' cheek he felt it all. His pain. Ezra's pain. Chris breaking. Bending over the gambler he cried hard. Crying into the chest of a man who didn't deserve to be killed by him. Chris didn't deserve to be here but he had nowhere else to go. His place is here.

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	5. A Bag Of Treasure

A bag of treasure

CH 5

BY: Wolfa Moon

SUM: Just what are these items? Will Ezra wake up?

DIS: Don't own. I think I wrote Josiah Out of Character.

CH1 Excerpt

_**Who cares about his first gift from his father? Now only a scrap of fur remains of the stuffed lion.**_

_**Who will touch parchment so old that the corners are no longer a perfect angles? A deck of cards given to a boy told to 'entertain yourself' and 'stay out of the way'. Always stay out of the way unless you're useful.**_

_**Who cares about the ribbon? A long piece of red velvet. Worn in places. A symbol of his one true love. Ezra plays with the ring on his finger. He remembered her. His love.**_

_**What will people make of the drawling? Mere scribbles on a bible pages. Only two colors. Yet it filled the good book. A welcome home gift for daddy. Yet daddy never got to receive it from his daughter. Having to find it when he scavenged through his house home after coming back form battle.**_

_**Would they remember her smile? Would they remember her laughter? He would as he closes his eyes. Remembering a time that he twirled her in the air. Making her fly like an angel.**_

_**Ezra looked at his treasure. Sure there is money. But that is all it is. Just money. Scraps of paper with legal ink marking it as worth. The scribble on the bible page worth more than any pot he won.**_

_**Time to move on.**_

A bag of treasure

Chris had become a fixture in the room. Pawing at the gambler to accept his help. The alpha going out of him, but he is it. Yet the alpha is suppose to protect his pack. Ezra is part of them. Sure he is a black sheep. No, He is a wolf in sheep's clothing. And the wolf that is part of the seven. Pack who bit, scrapped, tore at the sheep's hide upon him. Making him bleed. Confusing his own blood with his cover. Or is it?

Vin had gone out to where Ezra had done his dead. Seeking revelation. He had found the only gift that was given to him from the seven. Unknown to Ezra that Chris had loaned Vin the money to pay for the gift. Now the knife sheathed in Chris' gun belt. Not going to keep it. Just holding the present until the gambler felt better. And would use it in protection not in harm. Even then he would have to keep an eye out. What got to him more are the items in the small folded piece of leather. Expecting to see the gamblers gold. Surprise upon finding Ezra's true treasures. Each item taken care of with loving priceless love.

Bypassing the smaller items he took the biggest of the items out. Or was once. A bible that had seen better days. Especially before the fire had hit. The book singed yet still readable. Chris held it in his hand. Learning so much about the gambler. Especially how their past intertwined. Looking along the family line. It is the family McCoy bible. Looking along the signed tree of family past. Then the most recent. Daughter: Laura Reinette McCoy & Husband: Phineas Ezra Standton. Shortly scrawled under that was Daughter: Violet Reinette Standton. Ezra had been a father. A husband. They are more alike then they seemed. Everyone knew of Chris' skeletons. But Ezra had his buried. Burned to ash and mixed with wind to fly to heaven. Remembered by a man who had broken under duress. Who six men and a town had broken. Knowing he had time now to sit with his demons. Fighting over what he had done and how to correct. Skimming the book he had found drawings and scribbled inside pages of the book. What made him smile sadly are when he finds the pages of a young girl learning to write her name. Turning her O in her name into a smiley face. A child. No picture had been found amongst the items. They must have all burned in the fire. Or Ezra didn't have the money for one. Which Chris doubted. But you never truly know a man's past. Look at what a burnt bible taught him.

Ezra had so much depth. They only saw a cover. The sheep. Yet with this. Chris saw the beautiful wolf underneath. Worthy to be an alpha of his own pack. Not to be alone. He wasn't alone, once. Beginning to start his own small pack. Just as Chris had done. Then in a moment.

Gone.

ABT

Vin had taken a spell to sit with his friend. Chris never left unless Vin, who he trusted would not hurt, is with Ez. The rest of the pack trying to get him to rest. Chris did rest. Resting his head on the side of the cot where Ezra lay. Never leaving his side. Trying to make up, repent. Vin had looked over the bible. Knowing what it is. But what got him are the other items. The scrap of fur. Wondering its purpose. Figuring it out that it once belonged to a bigger item. This the only loving piece left.

It hurt to think that money is the only thing the gambler loved. Learning that money is just that. Nothing. Yes it helps. But these are what truly made him. The group learning so much about the man. Vin had taken in Ezra's room. For Ezra had given him a key to his room. Offering him warmth when the weather too rough for his wagon. Much obliged.

Remembering those moments spent together. The knife a gift of thanks. Listening to Ezra speak poetry. Entrancing him of great works he had never heard before. Sweetly spoken words. Closing his eyes, Vin remembers a time when the voice broke.

_She walks in beauty, like the night  
>Of cloudless climes and starry skies;<br>And all that's best of dark and bright  
>Meet in her aspect and her eyes:<br>Thus mellowed to that tender light  
>Which heaven to gaudy day denies.<em>

_One shade the more, one ray the less,  
>Had half impaired the nameless grace<br>Which waves in every raven tress,  
>Or softly lightens o'er her face;<br>Where thoughts serenely sweet express  
>How pure, how dear their dwelling place.<em>

_And on that cheek, and o'er that brow,  
>So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,<br>The smiles that win, the tints that glow,  
>But tell of days in goodness spent,<br>A mind at peace with all below,  
>A heart whose love is innocent!<em>

_(She walks in beauty: Lord Byron)_

Ezra had finished it. But never spoke it again. He had to ask Mary to teach him it. For it is a lovely piece. And if it could melt the walls of his friend he would learn it for him. So the next time he broke upon speaking it. Vin could help him finish it. To allow Ezra to know he had a friend.

ABT

Buck had taken one look at the lace-embroidered ribbon and knew the story that it told. Stunned to silence that the man who lay still before him had found love. Had loved. Given to the old fashion of ways of hand fasting. His mother telling of ancient love bound together by a thread. Witnessing it between two women in the house. For they catered to all. Love is love. And to each their own. And this ancient ceremony Buck saw how deep the love is. Done in secret before official in a bible of god.

_To be my life partner, To walk, run, and dance this new path together, To love, care and share, To let the winds dance between us, Let the fires burn within us, And the waters flow through us. _

ABT

"Sacrilege."

Josiah cringed at the desecrated bible. Snatched quickly from his hands when anger seethed through his lips. Chris holding it protective to his chest as a hurt pup. Nurturing the sacrilege and disgrace at it. Not seeing the true color mix with words. Vin standing in front of Chris to protect the object. Seething he let them be to a godless world. How could they defend such sacrilege?

Praying in a pew for the soulless and damned. Counting himself amongst them. The door opening at the back of the church didn't' make him stir. Nor did the clang of familiar spurs as they walked toward him. Why is he here? He hasn't moved once and now here he is. The alpha maintaining order.

Chris stood in the pew in front of him. Thrusting the book so he could see what the sacrilege really is.

Loving pictures from a dead child to her abandoned father. Josiah made to reach for it but Chris held it back. Still protecting it. Josiah could only nod. He understood. But it hurt. Chris walked away but stopped at the entrance. Josiah still didn't make a move.

Chris turned and walked out. Josiah closed his eyes. Still seeing the drawings of a mountain in psalms. And the little girl drawling herself sticky with a dog. A bow in her hair. His son had a family. Had something once to fight for. All gone now.

He had them. Did he? Not able to face the image of their comrade in that state. How could they have done this? Looking up to the sky for forgiveness. Too late.

ABT

Nathan could only observe their lone, renegade, thief of a wolf lay their comatose. Book in lap researching anything he could on this condition. He wanted to send for a real doctor but was vetoed. Fear that the doctor would send their wolf to a cage. A cage to be studied and left to the crazies of the world. Chris snapped at that. Threatening to steel Ezra right then and there. Take him someplace safe.

To bad Ezra didn't believe himself to be safe.

ABT 

Ezra is safe in his mind but not to the outside world. In his cabin away from them all. Walking in an open field horse reins held in hand. Letting his little one ride in the saddle like a big girl, all on her own. Smells of home cooking drafted over to them. He had peace.

ABT

Ezra took in a deep breath and sighed heavily. Chris moved at that. Closer to the injured. It was the first major sign of movement. There and gone. But then another deep breathe in. A tray is placed on the chair beside them. Chris glances over at Vin who brought the tray laden with food. And the smell. A fresh cherry pie.

"Mrs. Potter got several bushel's in. Heard Ez was in a bad way. She made it for him." Vin sighed, there was more. Wondering if he should reveal what is being spoken. Chris stared at him. Seeing that there is something else. Nodding his head encouraging Vin. Vin sighed. "There are rumors going around. None of them good." Vin lifted up a napkin off the food. "People are wondering who got to Ezra. Some say he dealt to the wrong people. Other's are saying...um… you did it. Drag his ass back to town and not leaving his side in order for him to not pull anything. But Mrs. Potter asked is this because of the medical supplies he requested." Resting his hat on the bedpost. "Seems to have been requesting them for a while." True the pack had scene the stitching of wounds. Wounds he had hidden from them when the rest had fought together against a common foe. To bad none of them saw how their lone wolf had limped away at the end of fights. Feeing unwelcomed to join. Nathan took a insult to him not coming to him for help. Vin had to remind him that whenever they were in the presence with each other. There is always an unkind remark. Ezra guess didn't want to deal with that. Even asking Mrs. Potter to order special supplies. But when Emmett came to Nathan for suture and meds and the items that Ezra had procured not being used she began to speculate. Chris nodded through some of the details. "The piece of information is the pie. It's not her recipe but one Ezra gave to her." Vin ran a hand over his face. "Ezra confided in her about his wife and daughter." That is why Mrs. Potter has no problem for letting Emmet and Alice. "So I asked her about that. She told me, 'Ezra is a complicated man.' Talked to her about how his family had a small farm in the upper Georgia. Outside a metropolis. Problem being that their house was a stop in the railroad." Chris looked over at that. "Seems there was a mole in their group. Gave them the Stanton name. Ezra at the time fought for his home. Hiring slaves to help tend his farm. His cover for having them. But…" Chris could finish. It didn't end well. "Ezra serving not able to help his family defend themselves. Coming home to a charred remains."

"How did she learn this?"

"Ezra talked to her. She listened. They would exchange stories. Also wondering why I was suddenly taking a high interest in Ezra. Since I never had before." Chris looked at him. Vin nodded. They hadn't taken time to invest. Vin had somewhat. "But she saw the friendship that budded between us. Especially when I bought the knife. I remember now." Waking an old memory. "About time he had a friend." Repeating her words. Vin sank into the chair looking at the heavy breathing body. "Is he okay?"

"Started doing that when you arrived with the food?" Both looked at the tray. Especially the cherry pie. It smelled divine. Ezra's recipe.

"Maybe," Chris picked up the knife. Smearing some of the filling on it then spreading it over the gambler's lips. Watching some trickle inside. They waited. A pink tongue came out to lick at the filling. Chris jumped for joy inside. Doing the action again and again till a whole slice had been scooped clean. Ezra making humming sounds with each taste.

ABT

Ezra sat on a swing the pie plate empty on his lap. Looking at the scenery. The farm, trees, horses prancing in the dusk. A weight descended onto the swing beside him. His beautiful wife, Laura, closing her eyes to take in the last rays. The last rays. Ezra shuddered. This is not right.

"Laura?" she turns to smile at him.

"Yes Phineas." Ezra smiled then concentrated.

"You're not here are you?" Things began to shift in his vision.

"No my love. I am here, but not." Ezra closed his eyes. He is dreaming. Such a good dream. He didn't want to leave but he had figured it out. This is not real. But was once. Something he wanted. She tilts her head at him in that way trying to get past his barriers. Seeing right into his soul. He shimmered with emotion. He didn't want to go. But it wasn't real. "I don't want to go." She touched his face.

"I know. But you could never live a lie." Calling him on himself. For she is apart of him. "It's not your way. You can't fight it." He had tried on the outside. Ending up here while living a lie. Never truly able to live it.

"I want to though. This time I do." He moved a hand to her face. Caressing, taking in her warmth. He missed her so much.

"But you won't be happy. Living in the shadows. You never liked is a child and you won't have it now. Especially with us." Ezra wants this lie. Want to stay here. He had been living a lie out there why not here. "You know better." Ezra gripped onto her tightly. Holding her one last time. Pulling her close. Smelling her hair. Her smell.

"I miss you." He didn't want to go. But he had to. Never one to live those lies. He had lived so many. Even now living one. Hating ever moment. Never himself. Bleeding through at the cracks. Blood spilling over the mask. Mask over the mask but not a mask. His true self. Coming to the surface once again. The family man. The man who would do anything for family. Protect till he couldn't any longer. Hide the pain away. But he can't hide anymore.

He took the place in one last time. His family farm. Generation to generation on his father's side. Gazing back to his wife. His beautiful wife. Her red tints shimmering in the dusk rays. Heart speeding in beats. His beautiful Laura, his love. Parted but never apart. Running a hand along her check. Stepping closer he feels her warmth. Her breath on his check. Tears on his face. She doesn't want him to leave or is it himself who is bleeding through. Tears on his own face.

"I love you so much." She rests her hand on his face.

"I love you more." He kisses the breaths out of her. Part they stare into each other's eyes. Sadness, grief. Emotions he had dealt all with before for them spill to the surface. But this one will hurt the most. She takes his hand and leads him inside. Through the kitchen toward the back two rooms bypassing their room she opened the door. He stares at it afraid. They are long gone but the hurt still there. This dream so real. They so real. Laura squeezes his hand. Strength. Ezra takes a deep breath and opens the door.

There on the bed is his little queen. His flower that he help seed and nurture to grow to this state that was her finale. Gone before her time. Sadly he went to her bed. She turns to face him.

"Are you sad daddy?" Ezra can't speak. This is a dream but it is the memory when he had to go off to war. His finally live moments with his family. With his beautiful child. Hair dark but the red highlights inherited by both shinning in the candlelight. Eyes that are a reflection of his. Staring at him with the brightest of emotions. True love.

"I am," and he is again. The knife twisting further. More blood to the surface. She moves in and hugs him.

"Don't be sad. I'm here." Ezra holds her close to her as tight as he can.

"I know you are," lying to himself. Hating this. A part of him that always made him bleed and cry out in the night.

"What wrong?"

"I have to go away." She moves back to look up at him.

"Can I come too?" Breathe hitching.

"Sorry darlin. Not this time."

"Next time."

"Of course."

"Promise." Ezra gulped for air.

"I promise." He had every intent of it. When the war end he would take her anywhere she wanted. Things never go as planned.

"I love you daddy." She hugged him tight. "You are the bestest."

"That is not a word." He laughed sadly.

"It should be. Cause you are." He hugs her close to him. Kissing her on top of her hair. Tears running down his face. Looking through the tears he spies Laura by the door. The light keeping her in shadow. A shadow. Ezra hugs Violet tighter. Let him have one final moment. Let him have this one finale lie.

A wolf howls. Ezra jerks at the noise. Scaring him. Saddening him. Pulling back he smiles at her. She smiles at him. It is time soon. Moving in they exchange kisses. Then they rub their noses together.

"Good night Daddy.

"Good Night my Little Queen."

TBC…

A/N: I cried during the end. Not sure where to leap off from here. Some ideas but who knows. Thank you for reading. **Reviews decreed.**


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